Play the Game
by uniquelady19
Summary: John Watson suspects Sherlock of having a mysterious personal relationship. Sherlock seems quite tight lipped over the whole thing and for some reason John is completely jealous!


Prologue

The soft melody of a violin being played pulled John Watson out of his peaceful slumber. Taking a few moments to remember where he was and why he had fallen asleep on his bed fully clothed and on-top of the sheets. _Sherlock._ The name crossed his mind with irritation and a bit of curiosity, pulling him from his comfortable bed and towards the front room.

"Kettles just boiled" The tall, dark and handsome man said over his shoulder, only pausing for the brief moment before continuing the song on his instrument.

John stared down at the teapot and two cups, sighing as he adjusted the pillow on his favourite chair and sat down. Pouring them both a cup of tea. "I've been up all night. You were supposed to be home by eight. You said the case you were working on wouldn't keep you out very long."

"Correction" Sherlock began in his usual condescending tone "By the state of your jumper and the wrinkles in your trousers I'd say you've been sleeping for a good four hours so you were not, in fact, up all night."

"Sherlock..." John said in a warning tone, about to continue but deciding against it. Instead he took a deep breath and a small sip of tea.

"The case is closed. The pearl earrings were exactly where I said they were and Lestrade made the arrest this evening around eight o'clock." Sherlock said as he put his violin down on the table next to John's laptop before plopping down on his leather chair and crossing his legs.

"That doesn't explain anything. It's three in the morning. If you made the arrest at eight where the blazes have you been?" John didn't bother hiding the irritation in his voice this time. Sherlock stared at him for a long moment before picking up his tea and saucer and leaning back in his chair. A sly smirk slowly forming on his face.

"Make a deduction." Sherlock had to take a sip of tea to hide the smile on his face, taking full pleasure of John's contempt.

"I'm not playing this game." he said with a glare, ignoring Sherlock's pleading look. "Every time I try to do what you do I end up looking like a fool. Actually no. _You_ end up making _me_ look like a fool by pointing out everything I've missed. So no Sherlock I'm not playing this game." They sat in silence for a long time, both sipping their tea while John tried to ignore Sherlocks fixed stare. "So..." John started after countless minutes of quiet. "Where were you?"

"Make a deduction." Sherlock stated again, this time without the humour. "If my whereabouts of this evening are bothering you you'll have to deduce something."

"Fine." John finally gave in, setting his cup down and leaning back in his armchair. He folded his arms over his chest as his eyes began trailing over Sherlocks body. John shifted uncomfortably under the mans intense gaze, a strange shiver going through his body as he looked the man from top to bottom. Finally John threw his arms up in defeat and stood up, picking his teacup up to take to the kitchen. "I don't bloody know."

"Clearly," Sherlock sighed at John's failed attempt. "What am I wearing?" he asked, holding his arms open for John to inspect. One hand still held the teacup, the other holding the saucer. "and why am I wearing it?"

"A silk purple shirt and black trousers." John said with another sigh, disappearing into the kitchen to wash out the cup and set it next to the sink. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"Yes you are. _Why_ would I be wearing these clothes?" Sherlock probed John's mind further, calmly watching the man struggle with the obvious.

"The shirt is high end. New I think." Sherlock nodded with a smile. "So I'm supposed to figure out where you were from a new shirt?" Sherlock nodded again and John continued. "Alright well... its a really nice shirt and you don't go shopping. Ever. So.. Special occasion?"

"Well done." Sherlock said, standing up quickly and picking up the tray to take to the kitchen. "I knew you'd figure it out. I didn't think it would take this long and bore me half to death but well done."

"So you were at a special occasion? That still doesn't tell me anything."

"Think John. Think. Why would a man disappear for hours on a Saturday night with new clothes and not tell anyone where he was going?" Sherlock slowly strolled towards his bedroom door, letting John think it through.

"Well a normal man would have been on a date." John said as Sherlock passed him. He stood there for a moment, mouth hanging open at Sherlock's lack of response. "You were on a date? A real one? With a person?... Sherlock?... Sherlock?..." The only answer John got was the click of Sherlocks bedroom door.


End file.
